netherfield ball
by checkerboxed
Summary: t w o shot. p&p :: mr. darcy has begun to realize that elizabeth bennett is decidedly more attractive than he has given her credit for, whereas mr. bennett sees the true ridiculousness in his family.
1. mr darcy

**netherfield ball:  
**_mr.darcy_

-----(( i really couldn't think of a title. ))  
-----------------♥

Mr. Darcy does not come down from his chambers until after the first guests have arrived, preferring to avoid the awkward pleasantries that arise between those who arrive exactly on time and the nervous hosts; Mr. Bingley has been pacing worriedly all day, much to the amusement of his sisters. The servants have rushed from room to room and their presence has been noted more than usual.

Darcy has, in fact, thought of nothing else these past few days; the thought that he will once again be forced to endure the trivialities of the Bennett family— the chatty, empty-headed Mrs. Bennett, the silly younger daughters— and his own embarrassment towards the next-eldest who, he has begun to realize, is decidedly more attractive than he has given her credit for, has given him much to be restless about, despite his attempt at occupying his mind with other things.

Knowing that Miss Bingley will admonish him for being late if he fails to make an appearance soon, Mr. Darcy glances once in the looking-glass to straighten his collar before turning toward the door. He avoids the staircase, choosing instead to slip into the room unnoticed and avoid causing unwanted attention from one of Bingley's sisters, who would surely make some comment on his appearance or the unsophisticated air of the country people in the room, a mindset he is tiring of. He stands awhile near the mantle in the drawing room, alone, until he realizes with a start that his eye has rested on every girl with dark hair and that every time one turns and is not Eliza Bennett there is a quick stab of disappointment. Darcy shakes himself mentally and turns, looking for Bingley, with whom he can be guaranteed at least an intelligent conversation.

The music is lively, and those dancing step well. As he passes a group of militiamen, of whom none are, thankfully, Mr. Wickham, Darcy sees for just a moment, before one of the men moves and blocks his vision, Elizabeth Bennett, dancing with an officer he doesn't recognize. He stops short in astonishment, his own mind racing, despite his already knowing that she would be here. Darcy shakes himself mentally, assuring himself that the only reason he is so moved by her presence is the fact that he has never seen her so well dressed— a rationalization that gives him something to hide behind.

Despite his efforts to distract himself, neither the music nor the company can provide any sort of distraction. Miss Bingley approaches him twice during the course of the next dance to comment on how unwell he looks, and to ask if he should like any sort of refreshment, though the courses have not yet been announced.

Darcy finds that he cannot take his eyes from Elizabeth, and so eventually gives in to the pull of her dark eyes, which have twice caught his, and spends much of the evening watching her absently, his thoughts turned towards approaching her. After some dances have gone by he straightens and weaves his way towards her through the throng of people, stopping occasionally to acknowledge someone he knows, until at last he stands before her.

Elizabeth turns towards him from her conversation with Miss Lucas, her eyes widened in surprise. "Mr. Darcy," she acknowledges, and the three bow courteously to each other before straightening. There is a pause.

Swallowing, Darcy opens his mouth. "Will you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?" he asks, hurriedly. Elizabeth flushes and glances at her friend; Miss Lucas stares up at him sharply with confused eyes. He is about to apologize for intruding on their conversation and back out respectfully when Elizabeth, much to her own evident surprise, answers, "I should be delighted."

It is not until later that Darcy realizes the whole approach was unplanned on his part, and that he does not regret it in the least.

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**so for AP english we read pride&prejudice  
and it was really exciting.  
and since we were all failing, mr. p gave us grade-saving projects **

as in, this:  
rewriting a scene from netherfield ball from the point of view of another character. 

**so. mr. darcy. **

actually, i wrote two.  
:D 

only i wish he let us choose from the entire book because i would not have chosen  
netherfield ball.


	2. mr bennett

**netherfield ball:  
**_mr.bennett_

-----------

Mary has begun to play.

I sigh at the half-finished chicken on my plate, aware that my third youngest daughter's playing lacks the ability and talent which she seems to think she owns. Each note is played with a methodical exactness that lends nothing to the piece as a whole; the tempo is learnt by rote and the dynamics hardly lend joy to the music. Her singing voice leaves much to be desired; it has never had a tutor, and doubtless even with one it would never be a good one. Other guests are glancing at each other sideways, too polite to say anything, and one glance at my two eldest daughters shows that they too are highly conscious of Mary's piano prowess, or lack thereof.

There is a pause when Mary finishes, and through the polite clapping Elizabeth breathes a quiet, nearly imperceptible sigh of relief— Mary, however, takes the general praise as encouragement and turns the page, beginning another air. Her voice wavers as she reaches notes higher than her lungs can allow and cracks on the way back down.

Jane, composed, turns toward Mr. Bingley as I watch, engaging him in a conversation, thereby belittling Mary's playing into a background which neither seem to notice. Elizabeth, however, looks mortified; she is sitting upright in her chair, eyes narrowed, face flushed— her eyes meet mine and she grimaces slightly, twitching her eyes towards her younger sister in a subtle attempt to, I suppose, alert me to the spectacle Mary is creating.

I sigh again, and Mrs. Bennett turns from the lady who is listening to her with drooping eyes to enquire after my health. "I assure you, I am perfectly well," I reply, glancing once at Mary, whose brows are furrowed and whose back is hunched over the piano, "I am quite enjoying this entertainment."

Mrs. Bennett pays little attention to my reply, however, and I am content to turn and continue watching the other guests attempt to ignore Mary and make small talk, though I know that each is highly aware of the awkward notes of my daughter's piano playing. Smiling a little to myself, I return to my dinner, glancing once more around the room.

Near the end of her second song, however, I realize that there is very little hope of Mary bowing gracefully out of a third air; when the last chord fades, I call out, "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."

Mary shows no sign of having heard me, but folds up her sheet music and stands, bowing her head to the strained clapping from the guests with an air of a master, her smile smug, but wavering. Knowing that she understood quite well my meaning, I hoped that it might knock some sense into her head.

There is a general appeal to the guests in the room for a new player, and naturally Mr. Collins stands up and begins to talk loudly, and my attention is diverted from one familial spectacle to the more amusing attention of his fawning praise of himself and his parish, an exhibit which I have always enjoyed immensely. Collins is secure in his own intelligence and self-worth, and I applaud him for it, as well as for his ability to completely bore his audience before he even opens his mouth.

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**the ending is kind of crappy, but.  
the whole point of this was to keep everyone in character,  
which is sort of a problem on fanfiction ( i mean. what? )**

**so.**

**ladeeda.**


End file.
